


Bottom to Top

by MrsHamill



Series: PWPs [6]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Medical Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-13
Updated: 2005-09-13
Packaged: 2018-05-21 04:23:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6037885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsHamill/pseuds/MrsHamill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ouch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bottom to Top

**Author's Note:**

> Utter fluff, with no redeeming qualities at all -- I don't write Top!Qui-Gon very much (preferring as I do Top!Obi-Wan), but there were extenuating circumstances. Um, yeah. For Mali Wane, who has a Thing about Qui-Gon's hands (and Qui-Gon!), a belated birfday prezzie. Thanks to Lori for the title suggestion (that I didn't use) and to Claude for her usual superlative beta, but all mistakes left are mine.

"Master."

There was no sound in the room save for their breathing and the rustle of skin on bedclothes.

"Master?"

"Hmm?"

"Master!"

"Padawan, please stay still, this is hard enough as it is, and I don't want to hurt you more than I have to."

"But, Master..."

"Obi-Wan, please."

"No, wait, Master, I need... _OW!_ "

"I said you needed to stay still."

"Ow! But I need to tell you -- ow! -- something, Master!"

"Can't it wait until we're done here?"

"No! I need to tell you now, it's important."

"Very well, Padawan; please elucidate."

"I... I think, I mean... I love you, Master."

"I love you too, Padawan. Now please stay still, I've almost gotten..."

"OW! That's not what I said, I mean, meant! I mean... Damn it! Will you just stop for a moment?"

"Obi-Wan, I can't stop; if I did, I would be doing you a grave disservice."

"But Master..."

"Where's that light?"

"Master! I said I love you!"

"And, as I said, I love you too, Obi-Wan. Ah, there it is. I thought there was another one here."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath then winced. "You're not listening to me."

"Obi-Wan, I am deeply involved in this situation, which must be resolved."

"But, Master... I said I love you! I really love you!"

"And why is 'I love you too' not an acceptable answer to that?" Qui-Gon's voice was still quiet and patient, not at all what Obi-Wan wanted. He was obviously not paying proper attention.

"Because you're not taking it the right way! When I say I -- ow! -- I love you, I mean I really love you. Really, _really_ love you."

"I know, Padawan, and as I said, I love you too. Now hold still, this one is quite deep."

"But... OW!" 

"Don't move, I've almost got it all..."

"MastER!"

"There, I think it's all out."

"Along with most of my butt muscles," Obi-Wan said sourly. 

"Hmm? Oh, wait, here's another, stay still..."

"Master, please..."

"I need to get them all, Obi-Wan, you don't want them to become infected. That would necessitate a trip--"

"Augh!"

"--to the healers."

"No healers!"

"I believe you've told me that before. Now hold still."

"I hate you."

"I thought you loved me, really, really loved me."

"Ah, so you were listening!"

"I was listening, I just wasn't paying attention. Please hand me the antiseptic spray."

"Here."

"Thank you."  Qui-Gon shook the bottle and sprayed the affected area.  "I'm not sure I understand how you can say you love me in one breath and you hate me in the next; nor do I understand why the subject came up at this point in time; a very awkward time, if I do say so myself."

"Because you're not understanding what I'm saying, here." Obi-Wan tried hard for a patient voice, but knew it didn't come out all the way.

"And how is that, Padawan?"

"Because -- OW! -- because... because I really love you, Master. I do. I've meditated on -- ow! -- it and I know my path is clear... would you please just stop for a moment?"

"Padawan, I'm almost done. Let me finish here. And you still haven't explained why 'I love you too' isn't an adequate response."

"Because you're obviously not saying the same thing as I am saying!" Obi-Wan longed to be able to see his master's face, but his current position, face-down on Qui-Gon's bed with his pants around his ankles, precluded it. And he truly did know better than to move. "I mean, I expected the usual talk, the 'every padawan goes through this, you'll be better off staying with your peer group' talk, but..."

"You undoubtedly would be. But I still fail to see why my response was inadequate. Hold still, please."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and clenched his fists, but remained still. Being a Jedi padawan left him with enough practice at it, after all.  "Ow!"

"Sorry, Padawan, that one was deeper than I thought."

Almost wanting to cry in frustration, Obi-Wan kept his eyes closed and regulated his breathing.  "How many more are there?"

"I'm not certain, but I think I've gotten the worst of them."

Singularly unhelpful, and just like his master, at times. Like now. "Master. I love you. I do not love you from afar, I do not love you in an innocent fashion, I do not love you in a brotherly or any other familial manner. I love you in the true, romantic sense of the word, in a sexual manner, and no, I am fully old enough to understand my own heart in this matter, which, as I said before, I have meditated upon." Only by gritting his teeth was Obi-Wan able to keep another exclamation inside.

"I can understand that, Padawan, after all, you cannot love someone from afar if you are sharing quarters with him. Nor do I expect you to have brotherly or fatherly -- or even motherly -- love towards me. And yes, I do acknowledge that you are quite old enough to feel--"

"Ow!"

"--real love, in any form, though you are not, apparently, old enough to remember not to back into a spiny gatchus."

"That was a low blow, Master."

"Possibly. But true nonetheless."

"That thing attacked me, I'm certain of it."

"Padawan, it's a plant. It could not have attacked you even had it wanted to, and I doubt it would have:  in the battle between you, I do believe it came out behind."

" _Behind_?" Obi-Wan's wince had nothing to do with pain, and once again he wished he could see Qui-Gon, or at least give him a Look. He settled for grimacing into his crossed arms. "Master. How could you."

"Sorry, Padawan."  Qui-Gon didn't sound contrite in the least, however. "I swear it was inadvertent."

"Humph."

"Regardless, you have not yet explained to me why you feel my response was inappropriate for the situation.  You say you love me, you _really, really_ love me, and yet, when I reply in kind, I am taken to task."

"Because you're referring to a different kind of love, I mean, I know you love me, but my love for you is different than that... Ow!"

"I fail to see how, Obi-Wan. Philosophers have said that true love is caring for another person and putting the needs of that person ahead of your own. Such as agreeing to help someone who has had their backside riddled with the spines of a gatchus by pulling them--"

" _ **OW**_!"

"--out rather than forcing said person to go to the healers. I do not believe that falls under any type of filial, familial or innocent love."

"You're my master..."

"And a master who did not love his padawan in the way you apparently feel I do not would send said padawan straight to the healers for such an injury, which is, perhaps, what I should have done."

Obi-Wan was silent for a few long moments, trying to parse that sentence and trying not to think of how many spines were left. He shifted carefully, re-crossing his arms under his chin.

"And you have yet to enlighten me why you have chosen this particular time to profess your feelings towards me."

"I don't know why, not precisely... But I just thought... ow! I just realized that, well, what you're doing... I mean, you're helping... you know... you're... you didn't..."

Obi-Wan paused for a long moment, then blinked. "Oh."

"Yes, Padawan. Stay still, please..."

"OW!"

"Sorry."

"But if you... if you actually, um..."

"Return your feelings?"

"Um... yes."

"I do."

"But... but... why? Why wouldn't you... I mean, why hadn't you said anything? Before?"

"Obi-Wan..."  There it was, a hint of exasperation and Obi-Wan mentally exulted. He was breaking through. "You are my padawan and were a child when I took you as padawan. You are many, many years younger than I, and--"

"Not that many!"

"You were when we started!"

"Started this particular task, yes," Obi-Wan muttered darkly.

"I can still send you to the healers, Obi-Wan."

"No healers!"

"Very well then, stay still."

The room was silent save for the rustle of skin on cloth and Obi-Wan's teeth grinding.

"Would you have said anything?" Obi-Wan suddenly asked.

"Hmm?"

"About... about, you know, about... us."

"Said anything to you?"

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, glad for once that his master couldn't see his face. "No. To Master Yoda. Please, Master. Would you have? I mean, if I hadn't."

"Probably not." Qui-Gon's voice sounded deeply amused.

"But... why?"

"Obi-Wan, you are my padawan. It would be--"

"If you say it's against the code, I think it's fair to warn you I will hit you, spines or no."

"I was going to say inappropriate, not against the code. And I count it as hardly romantic to threaten to hit someone that you profess to love. Flex your buttocks, Obi-Wan."

Gingerly, Obi-Wan did so, waiting, nearly dreading, the agony of a spine still embedded.  When nothing happened, he released his breath with a small exclamation, rising on his hands and glancing back. "Hey! I think they're all gone!"

"Yes, they have all been removed," Qui-Gon replied, spraying the area once again with an antiseptic. "I just wanted you to flex your buttocks while I still have you where I could appreciate it, unencumbered."

Obi-Wan's jaw dropped. His master had _not_ just said that. "You did not just say that."

"Say what?"

"What you just said!" Obi-Wan tried to roll over and stopped, wincing.

"That area is going to be very tender for a while, Obi-Wan, you'd best stay where you are." Qui-Gon's voice was impersonal, obviously pulling away, and Obi-Wan frowned.

"That's all right, I like being on the bottom," he shot back, greatly daring. He'd turned back around and was once again resting his chin on his crossed arms as he spoke, so he couldn't see his master's reaction.

It was very quiet in the room for a long enough time that Obi-Wan began to get worried.  "Master?"

"You like being on the bottom?"

Obi-Wan shivered. _That_ tone of voice was one he had never heard his master use, and he couldn't tell if he liked it or not. "Yes, Master. I l-like being on the bottom."

"What if your partner prefers to be on the bottom?"

"I'm very flexible, Master."   _Especially where you're concerned,_ he added in his head.

There was another long pause, then Qui-Gon spoke in that husky, dangerous voice again. "Are you, now?"

Obi-Wan drew a breath, but before he could speak, a warm hand ran down his back to caress his buttocks in a decidedly un-masterly manner. He shivered again and he could feel himself harden... which was rather uncomfortable, since he was lying on his stomach.

Qui-Gon's hands -- both of them, now -- caressed him, running over the perforated muscle of his buttocks, while his thumbs trailed down the crack of his ass. Obi-Wan's involuntary movement up made him wince slightly at the pain he still felt. 

"Be very certain, Padawan," Qui-Gon murmured, as his hands wandered down Obi-Wan's cleft. Obi-Wan moaned softly. "I will not do this lightly, or as a meaningless encounter."

"Me neither," Obi-Wan gasped as Qui-Gon's fingers began gently insinuating themselves deeply between his legs. He shifted so that he could spread his legs and give Qui-Gon more room, and found himself tangled in his trousers and underwear. "Not lightly at all."

Obi-Wan didn't want to break the spell Qui-Gon's rough, warm hands were weaving on his skin, but he had to, in order to spread his legs wider and give his burgeoning erection more room to grow. He lifted himself gingerly, wincing slightly at the deep ache from the spines that had been removed, and spread himself as wide as he could.

Behind him, he heard Qui-Gon catch his breath. "Let me assist you, Padawan," he said, calling one of his bed pillows to his hand with the Force.  Qui-Gon gently lifted Obi-Wan to his knees, removing his trousers and underwear before shoving the pillow beneath him. In checking for comfort, Qui-Gon wrapped his long, callused fingers around Obi-Wan's erection, tugging gently, caressing firmly. 

Obi-Wan whimpered and buried his face in his crossed arms. He thought he had been ready for this, but suddenly the idea of having Qui-Gon's considerable attention focused directly upon him sent a thrill of panicked excitement through his body. 

He must have been situated to Qui-Gon's satisfaction, as those huge hands began caressing him again. "So... you like being on the bottom, Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked again, breathing directly, shockingly, into Obi-Wan's ear.  

Another thrill, a deeper shudder wracked Obi-Wan as he realized Qui-Gon had, somehow, removed his own clothing. They were skin-to-skin, and something large -- really large -- and hot -- really hot -- was nudging Obi-Wan's opening. "Yes, Master," Obi-Wan gasped out.

Qui-Gon pulled away slightly and his thumbs were again playing with Obi-Wan's opening, caressing it, circling it, and Obi-Wan closed his eyes, moaning. "Yes, I do believe you're right, Obi-Wan, you certainly seem to enjoy it."

One hand disappeared but before Obi-Wan could speak, it returned, this time slick with something cool that Qui-Gon began massaging into Obi-Wan's cleft. One finger teased Obi-Wan's opening and Obi-Wan tried hard to spread himself wider, wincing slightly as he felt the holes in his bottom where the spines had been embedded. That small pain was banished, however, by a large finger which pressed into him, spreading lubricant and making him want to rock back. "Yesss..." he hissed, breathing harder.

Qui-Gon took his time, spreading Obi-Wan's cheeks carefully, inserting one, then two and sometimes three fingers, knotted together, all dripping with some form of lubricant. Finally, the slight pain left by the spines was gone, and Obi-Wan couldn't feel anything except for those fingers. He began rocking back in need as he felt his guardian muscle loosen. "Please, Master, please..."

"Do you want to be fucked, my Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon's voice was a harsh rasp in Obi-Wan's ear, and his wording, so unlike the normal Qui-Gon, nearly made Obi-Wan come. 

"Gods, yes, please, Master, anything..."

"Then are you ready for me, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon could have been asking about training save for the husky timbre his voice still held. 

"Yes... please..."

"If you are certain," Qui-Gon murmured roughly. Those fingers inside him were removed and something else began easing in, filling him with a delicious burn and an ache for more.

"More," Obi-Wan whimpered, trying to shove back into the cock splitting him in half with a wonderful, delightful mix of pain and pleasure.

"No, none of that, now," Qui-Gon murmured. He placed one huge hand around Obi-Wan's hip, holding it in place, and the other went to Obi-Wan's nape, where it felt wonderfully warm and slightly dangerous. "I don't think I want you to move at all, Padawan. I think I want you to stay exactly where you are."

Obi-Wan whimpered again as he realized -- he was in deep trouble. 

Qui-Gon moved in so slowly Obi-Wan thought he might die of it. He wanted more, he wanted more _right now_ , and Qui-Gon didn't seem to be in the mood to grant it. He was at Qui-Gon's mercy, completely open and spread wide for Qui-Gon's pleasure, and the entire situation put him so close to the edge he wasn't sure he could stand it much longer.

Then Qui-Gon's erection hit his prostate and Obi-Wan went rigid as his orgasm washed over him with the force of a tsunami. He became aware of a huge wet spot directly on the pillow beneath him at about the same time he realized the embarrassing mewling noises he heard were coming from him. And still Qui-Gon was there, holding him in place with two hands that felt enormous to Obi-Wan, keeping Obi-Wan from moving even an inch. And that pole Qui-Gon sported was still easing -- slowly, oh so slowly -- inside him.

"Was that good, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon's voice was again breathing into his ear. 

Still pretty much incapable of rational speech, Obi-Wan just gasped for air, shocked to find that he was, unbelievably, still hard. Youth and inexperience...

"I do hope you realize we're not done," Qui-Gon added, still in that hoarse, _primal_ voice. "I intend to take my time and find out if you truly do enjoy being the bottom."

 _Oh Yes!_ Obi-Wan thought to himself, with the last couple of brain cells that were still functioning. Then he noticed a tickle against his ass and realized that Qui-Gon was in. All the way in. And considering how huge Qui-Gon was (it was so unfair, Obi-Wan hadn't even gotten to _see_ the damn thing yet, nor had he even been _kissed_!) that was really, really, _really_ in. Like, in so far Obi-Wan could feel it in his _throat_.

And oh fuck, it felt good.

Qui-Gon was still holding him down; Obi-Wan confirmed that with a slight shimmy to see how far he could move. The hand on the nape of his neck tightened briefly, and the one on his hip flexed before settling into a new, more secure spot. Qui-Gon was leaning down, breathing nasty, lovely obscenities into his ear even as he tried to push in deeper. Obi-Wan was gratified to hear, under that new, indescribably sexy growl, a bit of breathlessness. He cashed in what sanity he had left and managed to squeeze with his internal muscles and was rewarded with a swallow, a hitch of breath and a pause in the litany of pleasure Qui-Gon was subjecting him to.

"Yes, I think you do enjoy being on the bottom, Padawan," Qui-Gon said breathlessly. "It appears that you enjoy it quite a bit. Though I must say, for someone who does so, you are marvelously tight."

"Oh, gods... move, Master, please move..."

"When we are like this, when I am fucking you or when you are fucking me, you must not call me Master, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon paused briefly then leaned down in order to breathe into Obi-Wan's ear again. "Unless, of course, I demand you do so."

What was left of Obi-Wan's brain melted and poured out of his ears. Qui-Gon's words implied... Oh, yes. "Uhhhh..." was all he could say.

Qui-Gon was still whispering hotly, and he wasn't moving, damn it all. "Say my name, Obi-Wan."

"Uhhhh..." Name. Say his name. Say the name of the glorious creature who was presently buried to his balls in Obi-Wan's ass.

"I won't move until you do, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon continued. His large thumb was caressing the fragile skin just behind Obi-Wan's ear while his fingers were buried in Obi-Wan's hair.

 _Must speak._ Obi-Wan knew he was supposed to say something, anything so that the incredible pleasure he was feeling could be continued and increased -- not that he thought he might survive it if it were increased -- but Obi-Wan's mouth simply couldn't engage.

Then Qui-Gon began to pull out, very, very slowly. "No!" Obi-Wan gasped. "Qui-Gon, Qui-Gon please, please move, Qui-Gon..."

"That's better," Qui-Gon growled. He quickly shoved himself back in with a deep groan, one that was echoed by Obi-Wan. "You are so tight and hot, Obi-Wan, so much better even than I had fantasized about..." 

Qui-Gon had fantasized about him? Hot damn, the primitive, lizard part of Obi-Wan's brain (which, it seemed, was in charge at the moment) gloated. Maybe some day (soon!) they could trade fantasies...

Quite abruptly that thought, as well as any others that might have occurred, were blown away when Qui-Gon upped the ante and began a punishing rhythm of hard thrust, draw back, and repeat. Obi-Wan hung on for the ride and every part of him went limp (well, except for one part, which was about ready to do a dance of joy), completely subservient to his master, to his lover. His Qui-Gon.

Damn, it felt good.

Obi-Wan rode the wave of sensation -- the cock in his ass, the soft/rough feel of the pillow on his erection, Qui-Gon's warm, wonderful hands holding him so firmly, so gently -- until he was aware of another orgasm beginning to burn up his spine. Those highly embarrassing mewling noises started up again, and he tried to shift his head to bite his arm, or at least shove something into his mouth to stop them.

"Don't," Qui-Gon said breathlessly, bending down again to whisper in Obi-Wan's ear, not letting up his hard, pistoning movements. "Don't muffle yourself. I like to hear you. I want to hear you when you come again, Obi-Wan. When you come for me, while I'm fucking you."

"Oh, fuck," Obi-Wan managed to whimper as that last comment just tossed him over the edge of the cliff. Then he was flying, soaring on a cloud of sensation, feeling Qui-Gon's movements become staccato, hearing him gasp and groan loudly as he came, violently, shaking as if he would shake apart. The extremely small rational part left of Obi-Wan was mentally congratulating itself -- _made him lose it, Kenobi, way to go!_ \-- but the rest of him was merely more satiated than he had ever been in his _life_ and pleased beyond belief that Qui-Gon still had the presence of mind not to collapse on top of Obi-Wan's still-sore bottom. Which was going to be even more sore, later, but damn, it was worth it.

Then he was rolling his head to one side (his neck being one of the few areas able to actually obey his commands), to see his gorgeous and gloriously naked, sweaty master nearly passed out on the bed next to him. Qui-Gon's hair was mussed and wet with sweat, his chest was still heaving, his face was red and replete and he was smiling in a way Obi-Wan was positive he'd never seen before.

After a few moments, Qui-Gon turned his head to one side and met Obi-Wan's gaze. "How does your bottom feel now, Obi-Wan?"

"Wonderful, Master, Qui-Gon." Obi-Wan grinned dopily, not caring how much his words were slurred. "Just wonderful."

"You're going to be even more sore tomorrow." Qui-Gon had a matching smile on his face. He reached one hand out and brushed against Obi-Wan's brow and cheek. 

"It was worth it."

"In fact, you're going to be so sore I doubt you'll want to do that again, Padawan."

"But... Mas--"

"So that means you'll merely have to be on top, Obi-Wan. Until your bottom heals, of course."

Obi-Wan realized his mouth was still open, so he closed it. He felt a slow, happy smile spread across his face. "I think I can do that, Master, Qui-Gon," he said softly.

"Good." Qui-Gon tweaked his nose gently, then ran his finger down Obi-Wan's lips to the cleft in his chin. "What else do you do, Obi-Wan?"

"With you? Anything. Everything." Obi-Wan was gratified to see a sweetly sentimental expression grow on Qui-Gon's face as he spoke. "Except I haven't been kissed, Qui-Gon, and I really think you should kiss me, don't you?"

Another predatory gleam lit Qui-Gon's eyes and once again, Obi-Wan realized he was in trouble. But sweet Force, he liked it!

"Yes, I think you're quite correct, Obi-Wan." With that, Qui-Gon scooted closer and took Obi-Wan's mouth in a kiss that turned from gentle and loving to hot and claiming in two easy steps. Qui-Gon, as it turned out, was as good a kisser as he was everything else, and shortly, there wasn't an ache or pain anywhere on Obi-Wan's body -- they had all been burned away by the force of his master's kiss.

Just before he once again lost himself in the joy of making love with Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan decided he should probably go water the spiny gatchus that started this in the first place. Then he resolved to stand as far away from it as possible while he did so, just in case it decided to attack him again.

end


End file.
